Journal of the Tactician
by Yautjan
Summary: An entry taken from the journal of the Tactician. Oneshot.


_9/29/980, Day 143 of the search for Lord Pherae_

Today was the first day we set foot on the isle of Valor, the Dread Isle. Lords Eliwood and Hector are busy planning out tomorrow's march. We, apparently, are going to follow the words of the Sacaen nomad and try and locate the great stump he spoke of. My friend, Lady Lyndis, says we can trust this man.

Personally, I doubt the man's words, but that is simply fear of what could happen to those I swore to guide. I have hidden these self doubts, though. I do not believe that the Lords could keep themselves alive without a guiding voice.

Lord Hector is brash and reckless, as usual. He'd fast kill himself and his friends if they were idiot enough to respect a command he gave in the means of battle. I do believe he has potential to be a great ruler, but he must stop being such a moron—with due respect if by some unholy reason he reads this—to achieve that.

Of course, my dislike of the more crude parts of Hector's personality to not match to those of Lord Eliwood's. I do not know what it is, but the man has a disruptive ability to irritate me to no end. Be it his combat skills, or diplomatic talents, I would rather avoid him, in honesty. But that is me, Saint. From the viewpoint of the tactician of this group, where their strengths and weaknesses must be exploited in battle to keep those alive, the heir of Pherae is frail. His swordplay has potential, but enemy soldiers are easily able to predict his attacks and evade them. Needless to say, Saint, this is enough to make me snap a quill in frustration.

I'd rather not dabble in politics. I need not to be a Lady to know when a man is corrupt. For the luck, my employers are relatively skilled in picking up knowledge in the arts of deception. That is one of the things I like about Eliwood—he's not a complete idiot, like that Ostian friend of his. In preference, I would send Hector and Lyndis onto the field and keep Eliwood back, to deal with the petty details I know only he could be capable of handling.

But see how I ramble? This is me just voicing opinions in a book, Saint. I'd prefer if blessings be upon me and none in or out of favor of the Lords discover this journal. I could destroy mine, or theirs, or both of our reputations with simple words. I suppose that is why the Shaman who joined up with us in port, Canas, said the pen is mightier than the sword. Is that a proverb I've not heard before? How curious…though when I think of it, it makes sense.

If my thoughts may remain personal, I must relate them to someone. I can trust this journal to never be read, correct? That is a prayer I will speak every night, even if as a last thought. But knowing the way men tend to snoop in a woman's things, I'll write now: I'll know if you get your grimy paws on this, and then perhaps I'll send you riding to an untimely death.

…That was crude and uncalled for, I know, Saint. But this is private. If I were to fill it with poetry or sex fantasies or my darkest secrets, it matters not; I'd rather keep it to myself.

I can trust this paper to remain unread.

Have you seen that Pheraen knight, Lowen? When I first met him, I was rather iffy on the meaning of his employment. His movements were jerky and his confidence minimal, despite his polite mannerisms and talented cooking ability. But as he slowly improved his skill in fighting, I felt more confident in sending him to destroy a unit of Laus's alone. Nay, I might even say he's become my elite fighter.

Of course, that may be partially to the attention I admit I have been paying him… I think he's noticed. He always seems to make sure I am fed well and not loosing sleep over my thoughts. I could look at this approach with my normal, disengaged view, or with that of a girl blinded by hope. What do you think, Saint? How should I review this?

When on that pirate ship, he offered to share a cabin with me. Normally, I would have refused, but it was either Lowen or Sain. Naturally, I took the former. I think we've connected more. I confide in him the stresses of being this little band's brains, and he listens dutifully. Such an honorable man… In turn, I tune in to his conversation, his musings on different recipes, and his dislike of the art of killing.

How odd. I just overheard Eliwood, Wil and Matthew say my name. Hold on a second, Saint, I wish to be enlightened.

Ah! Those rodents. They were simply speaking of the fact Lowen and I spend our free time talking, about anything and everything… "Have you heard?" Eliwood said, I remember. "Yeah," Matthew replied. "Lowen has a thing for Daniela!" "I know," Wil said. "He's done nothing but talk about her."

"You have to admit she's pretty," Matthew had added. Oh, thanks, you jerk.

"It's not a good idea for someone who wanders so much to get involved with a knight," Eliwood mentioned casually. I'm resisting the urge to hunt him down and smack him senseless.

"It's cute," Matthew swooned. "I mean, Daniela and Lowen? That's got to be the cutest couple ever."

"Are you gay?" Wil had asked. I had almost marched out and given him a giant hug. I'm pretty sure Matthew beat me to it, but he probably punched him in the jaw and went off to brood. I cannot blame him too much… He lost Leila so recently…

Speaking of loosing people… Florina has been horribly depressed since her sister died. Only an hour or so after she had joined our ranks. Fiora, I believe she was called… I've not said anything about it, but I know Florina probably hates me now.

I should go confess this all to Lowen. But that would also mean admitting… Damn those three. There's no point in really hiding anything any more. I know it's a stressful time for him, with Lord Elbert being so close, but… I just can't hold this in any longer.

Who would have thought that a traveling tactician would become so infatuated? I'm going to regret it… It wouldn't be so bad to hide my identity after the war, right? Maybe do some fast talking… I don't know. First, I suppose, I have to help guide these fools to victory.

The memoirs of a genius.

I need to speak with Lowen. I can't lie to myself anymore.

I'm still going to beat the crap out of Eliwood, though.

_-Daniela_


End file.
